Do they not know? Do they not see?
It hurts. Every single day.
Rot, miasma. A thick cloud, around the fortress, around the last bastion of humanity.
A ghost town, a still heart.
Does it have life?
Does it still beat for those I love?
Purpose, false promises
All forgotten in the eternal, unyielding march of time.
Effort, passion.
Whiled away, assumed to be time never well spent.
Time, our best friend, and our best enemy.
Why do I carry on? Would it be better to just... leave? To turn my back on everything, and everyone I hold dear?
The fields grow barren. A single unicorn stays.
He munches, unseen tears falling, unknown, into the ground.
Perhaps it's better this way.
YOU ARE READING
For The Brave, For The Bleeding
PoetryA collection of poems for the strong who are fighting, for those who have somebody to fight for, for those who still knows what it's like to love till you hurt all over... A set of original works from your pocket unicorn. Feel free to comment on his...
